i'm like a junky: eyes feasting on anything that may resemble junk entering into my scope. i'm racing (in my head, but being a junky its more of a stumble) thru darkened streets and alleys as the sun gives way to night (PLAY: Ministry's "Just One Fix"). i'm like a vampire racing the sunrise ... but in reverse because, like i said, its sundown. maybe i just don't know what time of day it is (the junk and the need for junk has clouded everything). honestly i don't know what the "need for junk" is nor what "junk" may be in this half-deluded little parable i pulled out of my ass. i'm just trying to write and talk about sports / and not talk about sports. without sports, what is there on the internets? the better question might be: with sports what is there on the internets? what is there on cable TV / in the chain movie theaters (i skipped Transformers and i fully plan to skip Transformers 2 ... i'd probably only see them if i was high with Ministry playing loudly on headphones as i sipped at a cool sugar beverage slightly watered down from melted ice). what is there on the magazine covers (please no "new" celebrities whom only seem to be from reality shows or constructed pop acts sold to pre-teens with nothing but disposable money)?
the newspapers are disappearing. Farah Fawcett and Michael Jackson just died today. the deaths of these celebrities (Ed McMahon too) somehow unites us as Americans. like the weather or the economy. like politics or buying a car. like buying anything really.
i'm not a junk-sick drugged out reverse vampire scouring the streets. i'm not a pop culture consumerist (at least not by design anyways). these things just pop up.
maybe a gin martini is in order. good night.
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